


the weakness to fall

by howlingheartdemigod (helpmeimstuckon)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Found Family, Gaslighting, Marion pays half the rent, Mentions of alcohol, Negative Self Talk, POV Third Person Limited, Past Child Abuse, Self-Hatred, Ship is minor, Unreliable Narrator, and briefly consider setting the lionette estate on fire, feel free to ask me question in the comments about the scenes beau wasn't there for!, playing loose and fast with how to properly treat a sprained wrist, that's how they afford off campus housing as sophmores, the Nein find out how Beau's treated at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpmeimstuckon/pseuds/howlingheartdemigod
Summary: Going home had been a mistake, but her mother had called repeatedly in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, talking about tradition and family and just how happy it would make her father. So, while all her friends prepared for friends-giving, Beau packed to go home.It was two days. She could make it through two days with her parents. She could come home Thursday night and fulfill her duty as a child and it would be fine.-Beau goes home for Thanksgiving. It doesn't go well. Beau's friends react to her returning.





	the weakness to fall

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags.  
> originally written as a prompt fill for tumblr. "if ur still taking prompts how about any of the m-9 realizing beau's dad was physically abusive and trying to comfort her abt it and/or Fighting her parents on it"  
> hope i did it justice. find me there at howlingheartdemigod
> 
> title from milk and honey by rupi kaur  
> "if you were born with  
> the weakness to fall  
> you were born with  
> the strength to rise"

Beau stumbled back into the house early Wednesday morning, only a few minutes past midnight, wrist clutched to her body. She’d been steadfastly ignoring the pain for an hour and a half of the two hour drive, just focusing on getting away, getting back. The cold night air chased her into the front hall of their rental, a place too small for the eight of them, but one that felt like home nonetheless. She leaned against the wall by the door, toeing off her shoes. She closed her eyes, taking careful breaths to stop of the tears that threatened to fall. She’d been biting them back since the argument with her father grew from his normal picking to the more nasty cutting bite. Beau forced ragged breaths to steady, breathing to her stomach like she'd been taught, pretending the tears on her face weren’t there.

“Beau?” Nott’s high reedy voice was unexpected, causing her to jump, causing the pain in her ribs to rear its ugly head from where her father had gotten in a good jab before twisting her arm up behind her.

Nott’s small, thin form appeared from the darkness of the kitchen, a glass of amber liquid clutched in her fingers. Beau didn’t even have the sense of mind to think about Nott’s promise of no drinking during the week. Nott blinked at her, her light brown eyes almost seeming to shine yellow in the flickering porch light. “I thought you’d gone home for the holiday. Are…” Beau felt Nott looking her up and down, gaze growing heavy with worry. She set the glass on the entryway table. “Are you alright?”

Beau took a breath and pushed herself away from the wall. “I’m okay, Nott.” her voice was rough, raw with swallowed sobs. She didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want them to see her as weak. She’d hid it from them for over a year, she could keep it up.

Going home had been a mistake, but her mother had called repeatedly in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, talking about _tradition_ and _family_ and just how _happy it would make her father_ . The guilt of not going home that summer, the instead taking a mission trip with Dairon and the other Physical Therapy majors to another _continent,_ won out over all reason. So, while all her friends and housemates, the Mighty Nein, as they had dubbed themselves, prepared for _friends_ giving, Beau packed to go home.

It was two days. She could make it through two days with her parents. She could come home Thursday night and fulfill her duty as a child and it would be _fine._

Except, it wasn’t. Except a year of not facing her father had left her careless. She’d started to forget rules, started to become comfortable with herself. She’d gotten in trouble within an hour of being home. The longer she spent there the more tense she felt. The more bullshit he hurled her way the more she wanted to snap back at him.

As soon as she did, she felt the familiar sting of his backhand, heard the familiar disappointed tutting of her mother. She didn’t let it stand this time. This time she swung back. He’d paid for years of martial arts training, and just because he couldn’t lower himself to show up to her tournaments didn't mean she hasn't won them. She got in three smart good jabs before his height and anger beat out her skill handedly. He bashed her lip, bruised her ribs, and twisted her arm, then pinned her face first to the wall.

“You insolent child!” He roared, trying to manhandle her towards the stairs, towards her room where he would certainly try and lock her away until Sunday night. “You don’t deserve the Lionett name.”

Beau had never been so thankful for Jester insisting she and Nott go with to the self defense course one of the sorority houses had put on. She swallowed, and ran through the way to break this sort of grip in her mind, then tried her best to execute it. Apparently, she hadn’t learned well enough. She she was already out the door, fumbling with her keys at her car when she realized her wrist was already swelling. She took off anyway, watching her father fume in the doorway as she backed down the drive as fast as she could.

“Beau,” Nott’s voice pulled her back to reality. Her gaze was stern, but turned soft as she spoke. “You are not fine. Let me help.”

Beau almost ran, almost darted up the stairs and locked her door behind her. This could only be deceitful kindness. She could nearly feel her mother's hands turn from soft and careful, applying bandages and ointments, to hard and cruel, digging into bruises, telling her that this wouldn’t happen if she would just _behave_.

But this was not her mother, she reminded herself. This was Nott the Brave, her friend. This was Nott, who’d never been unkind to her before. This was Veth, who'd gotten her nickname in honor and as proof of her kindness. Who’d helped patch Beau up after drunken fights at frat parties, who’d held her hair back when she was puking her guts up, who helped her learn how to recognize her mistakes and apologize. Nott had never been unkind.

Beau slumped against the wall, defeated, and gave a nod. “Alright.” She relented, sliding down to sit on the floor.

Nott let out an audible sigh of relief, which only started up the guilt kicking in Beau’s gut. “I will be right back with the first aid kit.” Nott said, as she turned to scramble up the stairs.

Beau nodded, swallowing. She could let Nott help. Nott understood secrets. She’d get Beau cleaned up and then they could pretend this hadn’t happened in the morning. It would all be fine. She wouldn’t have to let them all know what a wreck she was. How undeserving she was.

“Beau,” She hadn’t realized that she’d let her eyes drift shut until she opened them to see Nott, and behind her, another tall figure. Beau let out a groan of protest at the sight. “Oh, come on. I need help to get you to the kitchen. And Fjord was already awake.”

Beau shut her eyes, and heard Fjord come closer. “Come along now, Beau.” He hooked an arm under her, shifting his grip when she hissed at the contact with her ribs, and hauled her up. This was the worst, this was horrible. Fjord knowing was nightmarish. She opened her eyes again, and limped along side him towards their brightly lit, light yellow kitchen. That stupid paint color was normally so comforting, but now it only seemed to magnify the light Nott had turned on, it only seemed to expose her more.  Fjord helped her into one of the mismatched chairs, as Nott flipped open their expansive first aid kit.

Fjord dropped to a knee next to her, trying to get a good look at her. She refused to meet his stare. “What the fuck happened...” He muttered, pushing back to his feet, to go dig in the freezer for an ice pack.

“Ask her when she isn’t bleeding.” Nott replied, voice a little louder than Beau would have liked.

She closed her eyes again, wishing she’d slept in her car, or gone to Dairon’s to crash, or… She didn’t know. She just wished she hadn’t come home. Wished she could have kept them from worrying so much.

“Guys?” A familiar accented voice called from the door. Beau turned to see Jester, bleary eyed, dark blue hair half tied up and mussed, in the doorway. Guilt washed over Beau as she watched her state settle over Jester. “Oh, Beau, what on earth-”

“Ask when she isn’t a mess.” Nott said, caring and stern all at once. Beau was thankful for that, for Nott, and her unspoken understanding. “Jester, could you deal with her wrist while I get the blood off her face?”

Jester nodded, and moved quickly, her instantaneous switch to business mode reminding Beau firmly that she’s Pre-Med for a reason.

“This is unnecessary.” Beau complained. “I just need to take an ice bath and I will be fine.”

“You look like absolute hell, Beau.” Fjord said, handing her an ice pack. “Put that on your ribs and let us help you.”

Beau pressed her lips, trying to come up with another argument when they all heard the front door crash open, hitting the wall. There were muttered voices, like someone who is bad at being quiet trying to be quiet. Beau stiffened and curled into herself all at once, terror creeping through her. Of course he followed her. Nothing like the chance to show her friends that she was worthless. She ducked her head, muttered “No, no, no, " to herself.

Fjord moved quickly, holding up a hand to tell them all not to move. He peaked around the corner, and his defensive stance dropped. “It’s Yasha, with drunk-ass in tow.”

Molly’s voice rang clear as he walked towards the kitchen. “Of course it’s me, handsome, who else would it- Oh dear Gods.” Beau curled deeper into herself, head away from the door, not wanting hear whatever snarky thing about losing a fight Molly had to say. He didn’t get it, this was her fault. She didn’t want them all to see her like this. To her shock, she only heard him call, “Yasha, make sure the door is locked.” then the sound of his feet on the wood, heading deeper into the house.

“I always lock the door, Mollymauk.” Beau could hear the fond smile on her lips, and shuddered at the thought of that fading as soon a she saw Beau. She closed her eyes before Yasha reached the room, but heard the soft, shocked, “Beauregard,” regardless. Yasha drew near her side, where Fjord had been standing. Yasha’s fingers grazed the tender, bruised skin of Beau’s face.  “What _happened?”_

“I have to ask the same.” Caduceus’ low voice called from the door.

Molly had returned with him and tow. At Beau’s groan of annoyance, Molly shrugged. “Two pre-med students equal at least an intern, right?”

Caduceus joined them, sliding in as Nott ducked away, darting out of the room off to who knows where. He and Jester discussed her wrist, deciding that it wasn’t broken, just badly sprained, and the splint they had would be fine until they could get her to a proper clinic in the morning.

Yasha didn’t move away, just kept trailing her fingers over Beau’s face, avoiding the bruising and swelling. “What happened, Beau?” she asked, voice soft, calm, the clear blue before the sky started raging.

That’s what broke Beau, ultimately, caused the sobs to start up in her chest, which caused the pain to kick up, which only caused more tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” she rasped, leaning into Yasha’s touch, as someone moved around behind her. “If I was just, if I was just _good_ this wouldn’t have happened. I don’t-” She gasped in a breath, looking through tears at Yasha, who seemed _horrified_ of her. _Gods_ she couldn’t even _apologize_ right. She was worthless. “If I had just behaved then you wouldn’t all be up worrying about me, and, and if I could have behaved he wouldn’t have touched me, and this is all my stupid asshole self fucking everything up again.” Beau dissolved into sobs, leaning forward onto Yasha’s shoulder. There were several seconds where the only sound was Beau’s sobbing. Beau could only assume that they were sharing knowing looks, understanding how pathetic she truly was.

“Perhaps,” Caleb’s voice was soft from the door, and Beau shuddered to think of how much of her outburst he’d heard, that he too knew she wasn’t worthy of the kindness they showed her. “Perhaps, we should talk in the morning.”

There was a moment as that suggestion, really more of a warning it seemed, settled over them. They moved slowly, dispersing out of the room. Jester secured the brace on, then took Fjords hand and led him away. Caleb disappear into the darkness of the hall, Nott following once she’d dumped the drink she’d been awake for down the sink. Caduceus gave Beau a firm command to come talk to him first thing in the morning, then he retreated down towards his room. Yasha took a breath, and waved Molly over. Together, they helped Beau back to her room. Yasha lowered her onto the bed, as Molly checked that her window was locked.

Before Yasha could move away, Beau caught her wrist. “Stay.” she pleaded.

Yasha swallowed, the unspoken thing between them sparking with the force of her worry. Beau knew she didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve Yasha, but she wanted it. Gods did she want it.

Yasha nodded, her agreement washing over Beau in a wave of relief. Yasha went over to whisper something to Molly, who nodded, came over to press a kiss to Beau’s head, then disappeared, closing the door behind him. Yasha settled into bed with Beau, careful of her injuries.

Beau certainly didn’t sleep well that night, but she slept, and that alone was nearly a miracle.

 

* * *

 

Beau woke up with a warm weight on her chest. She cracked her eyes open in the pale light of the room, and saw Frumpkin curled up, right on top of her. She smiled, moving to pet him. The brace on her wrist, however, reminded her what had transpired the night before.

“Fuck.” she muttered. Beau looked over, finding the other half of her bed empty. “ _Fuck._ ”

Beau coaxed Frumpkin to her lap, then pulled herself upright, breathing through the pain in her side. She scratched the cat behind the ears, looking around the room. Someone had brought her bag up from her car, and set it by her desk. She dragged herself out of bed, and went to change out of her day old, slept in clothes. She knew a shower would really do wonders but as soon as she left that room she was certain it would be something of an interrogation, or maybe just a firm ‘move out.’ She always paid her share of the rent, but maybe they really did just keep her around because they thought she was strong. Maybe this was a tipping point.

Beau stared at herself in the tall mirror Jester had moved in there when she got a new more ornate one. She was a mess. She lifted her shirt and ran her fingers over the her side, blooming with red and purple. It was an ugly one, probably a broken rib, or at least fractured. It hadn’t felt that bad the night before, but sleeping on without wrapping it had definitely aggravated things. She dropped her shirt, and looked to her face. Her lower lip was busted, on the left. Nothing much to do there but let it heal, maybe apply some ointment. She darted her tongue out, tasting the rust from it. At least he hadn’t cracked a tooth. That would have been hell to deal with. The bruise on her cheek was almost familiar, almost reassuring. She could see where his wedding band had hit, the slightly darker line among the red. It looked like the bruise she’d been sporting in her yearbook photo senior year of high school. She’d told everyone she wiped out on her skateboard. Her mother had told her she’d wiped out on her skate board. She’s insisted she’d wiped out on her skate board. She forced Beau to repeat it back, through tears. Beau had kind of started to believe it.

Beau turned away, feeling dejected. Frumpkin had laid in the warm spot she’d vacated, and was staring at her with wide eyes. “ _Mrph,_ ” he blinked, head tilting.

“Yeah, bud.” She replied, moving to scratch behind his ears. Frumpkin pushed into her hand, then jumped off the bed and headed towards the door. He waited patiently, looking back at her. Beau took a breath, nodding a little, realizing Caleb’s cat was right; she needed to face the music.

She cracked the door, and Frumpkin trotted out ahead of her. She padded softly, hearing the quiet murmuring of voices, and the sounds of cooking from the kitchen. She moved quietly, dragging her feet, listening.

“...saying we need to know the story.” Fjord was saying. “We need to know what _she_ wants to do not just want we feel.”

“We can’t just let this go.” Yasha now. Beau would have felt bad for eavesdropping if they weren’t clearly talking about her. “I’m not going to let this go.”

“She’s not going to want to talk about it.” Caleb sounded tired, sounded like he hadn’t slept. “She has spent this long hiding it from us, probably from everyone, and… It messes up your head.”

“I am going to kill the bastard.”

“Yasha, as much as I’d love to, we don’t know for certain he did this, we might just be making assumptions.” Fjord replied.

“I think it was pretty clear, seeing as she’d gone home, been there for a few hours at most, and got back bloody and bruised. I don’t understand why we’re sitting here discussing this instead of burning the house down.”

“That isn’t our decision to make.” Caduceus now, sounding distant.

Caleb spoke up again. “It takes a lot of, uh… a lot of time to get to a point where you can talk about it, especially if you’re alone in it.”

“She isn’t alone!” Jester replied, sounding haughty. “She has us.”

Molly cleared his throat before speaking, and Beau knew how he ran his hand through his obnoxious purple hair when he did that. “I think his point, love, is that even if she isn't now, she is has been alone.”

“Secrets isolate you.” Nott added.

“That’s true.” Fjord said. “I just wish we knew what to do.”

“How about we ask her?” Caduceus’ voice was accompanied by the soft sounds of a plate of food being set out. “Her door opened a few minutes ago. I’m sure she’ll be down soon.” Beau took a few quick steps back down the hallway, swallowing. She tiptoed backup a few steps, then took heavy stomps, making it clear that she was _only just now coming down stairs and in fact had never been down stairs ever before in her life._  It was stupid, but it made her feel better.

She ducked into the room, to all eyes on her, and nearly ran. “Hey.” she said, voice strained. “Uh, I think I may have a cracked rib. I need to first aid kit.”

“Oh, I put it back away, I’ll go get it.” Nott said, pushing to her feet.

“Thanks Nott.” Beau said, moving towards the sink. She wanted to grab a glass of water, but it was frustrating with the brace, and the tense silence in the room. She dropped the cup, clattering it into the sink. She jumped, gasping a little. “Sorry,” She muttered, almost on instinct.

“Beauregard.” Yasha had moved closer. She looked soft in the daylight, she looked worried. Beau swallowed, not looking at her. Yasha reached past her, grabbing the cup. She filled it, and pressed it into Beau’s good hand. “I think you should sit.”

Beau pressed her lips, head shaking a little. “I’m… I’m alright. I uh…” she stared down at the cup, turning a little towards the rest of the kitchen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at them. Couldn’t force herself. “I’m fine.” she said.

Before anyone could speak, Nott came back in the room, digging through the kit. Yasha put a hand on Beau’s back. “Please sit.” She said softly.

Beau swallowed, and relented. Jester came over, bandaids in hand. “Beau, can I wrap your ribs?” she asked. Beau nodded, and Jester dropped to a knee in front of her, making her lean forward to wrap around her middle. Yasha sat next to her, and the room fell silent again. Jester put the clips into place, and settled down on the ground. “Beau.” she said. “Will you tell us what happened?”

Beau bit her lip. “It doesn’t matter, It’s…”

“ _You_ matter to us, Beauregard.” Caleb replied softly from the other side of the table. She met his eye, seeing the deeply furrowed brow, the worry, the… she must have been projecting, but she could swear she could see understanding in his eyes. She looked from him to Molly next to him, to where Nott was settling down into a chair. She was surrounded by her friends she realized, protected by them. Caduceus was by the stove, currently turning the burner on for the kettle, Fjord was leaning by the door, keeping anything he could out. She heard Caleb snap a little, and heard Frumpkin make a noise of reply. He muttered something in Zemnian, and Frumpkin trotted under the table over to her. She let out a little huff as the car curled up on her feet.

She swallowed. “I’m sorry.” she said again. “About last night. I’m sorry. I… I went home, and I picked back at my dad and he just… he just gets upset. If I didn’t upset him this wouldn’t have happened.”

“This isn’t your fault, Beau.” Yasha replied without hesitation.

Beau scrunched her nose, head shaking. “It’s… If I had behaved, I hadn’t spoken back, if I hadn’t _hit_ back he wouldn’t have escalated things.”

“Your… Your father?” Jester asked from the floor. “Your father did this?”

Beau looked at her, guilt welling up. Jester had so much faith in the world. Her mom had always been so _good_ to her. She’d always taught her to expect the best. Beau was ruining her. She forced herself to nod at Jesters question.

“Oh, Beau.” Nott’s voice rang out. “And your mother…”

Beau shrugged. “She, uh… I mean… She doesn’t fly off the handle like him. She… she isn’t… it’s… everyone’s parents are assholes, right, mine are just, worse than some.”

“No, Beau.” Fjord said. “That’s… when people complain about their parents it’s because they got in an argument about curfew, or about like… I don’t know, over using their gas card.” He shook his head. “Not this.”

Beau looked around the room, scowling as she realize they were all making faces of agreement. She dropped her eyed back to the drink. “Oh.” She said.

“It’s okay, Beauregard.” Yasha said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Jester put her hand on Beau’s knee, nodding.

Beau took a breath, trying to accept that new reality. She looked around the room, swallowing, then shrugged. “But, upsetting him, that, it was my fault, though-”

“Step one for you is going to include a lot of positive self talk.” Molly said. He’d taken to leaning his chin on Caleb’s shoulder, not quite meeting Beau’s eye. “And learning to keep from ever thinking that what they did to you is your fault.”

Caduceus brought a cup of tea over, trading the glass Beau was holding out for the warm ceramic. “We’ll help you on that.” He promised.

Beau felt almost dizzy, almost sick, but she looked around the room, and realized that if they were willing to go to all this trouble for her, to help her, then maybe, just maybe she did deserve it.

 

* * *

 

Beau remained on edge all of Wednesday, as they talked through things, moving from the kitchen to the couch, talking about options and if she wanted to go to the police, and when she could get in at the student mental health clinic. She kept expecting it all to fall apart. But the more they deconstructed it, the more they talked, the more she realized the way her family treated her was _not normal._ She realized it, but it was still hard to keep from pulling blame to herself. It had been drilled into her so long that it was just habit.

Yasha never really left her side, Frumpkin wasn’t ever far from her either. (She really didn’t understand how Caleb had so effectively trained a cat. It almost seemed impossible.) They decided, late Wednesday, to call it a night, seeing as Beau hadn’t called herself an asshole or apologized in nearly an hour, and they’d finally finished the pizza they'd ordered. Jester hugged her as tight as she could without making her rib situation worse before she skipped up to bed. Fjord gave Beau a nod, smiling a little before he followed her. Caleb gave her a firm pat on the shoulder, that she returned. Molly, a kiss on the head. Nott who had been playing mother hen all day day, gave Beau’s hand a squeeze before heading off to her room. Caduceus took a breath, and promised her that things could only get better, before disappearing down the stairs.

Yasha stared at her from the corner of the couch. Beau stared back.

“Beauregard, I…” Yasha cleared her throat. “I have to be honest, I’ve never been this angry in my life. I want to drive out there and kill them for what they did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that.” Beau swallowed, feeling too many emotions to parse how she felt about that. Yasha dropped her eyes before continuing. “I just… I wanted to say that… I will never let anyone hurt you like that again as long as I’m in your life. And I plan to be in it for a long, long time.”

Beau swallowed, nodding a little. “I want you in for for a long, long time.” She replied.

Yasha looked back to her, and Beau could swear she saw a weight shift on her shoulders. She knew that Yasha had lost someone dear, though she didn’t know the details, and she hoped, she prayed, that she wouldn’t ever make that list longer.

Yasha pushed to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

To Beau’s shock, Yasha joined Beau in her bed. To her amazement, she fell asleep so easily when Yasha was there. To her wonder, Yasha was still there when Beau woke up again.

 

* * *

 

Beau should have been expecting the loud insistent pounding on the door. It was after their thanksgiving dinner, where they all, (but mostly Molly, loudly) had primarily discussed the hypocrisy of early European settlers, and they were half way through Love, Actually. Jester had insisted, declaring that it was the only way to start off the Holiday season right. Beau had nearly forgotten about the pain in her side, and the brace on her wrist. She was tucked in to Yasha’s side, and Caleb muttering dumb commentary from her other side, and she felt _safe._ She felt _good._ And then there was a violent pounding at the door, and the sound of the doorknob being rattled, and she immediately felt that being taken away from her.

“Beauregard!” A voice roared from outside, and Beau could do nothing but freeze as Fjord scrambled for the remote. “Beauregard Lionett, I know you’re in there! That piece of shit car of yours is parked right out front! Answer this door _immediately_.”

“That’s it.” Molly muttered, pushing to his feet. Yasha was spurred to action at that, pulling away from Beau. She tried to cling to Yasha’s shirt, but she was too slow. She watched Jester push to her feet as well.

“Guys.” she said, voice a half broken whisper. “Guys, don’t…”

“Beau,” Caleb said, turning to face her as their friends stormed down the hall. “Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose who cares for you. That’s not a choice you get to make.”

With that, Beau was silence, shocked. It was a conversation they’d had freshman year, it was what she’d said to him when he was trying to hard to push them all away. His reply had been cutting, about how the trouble with friends is that you _have_ to care about them, but all of the sudden she saw it, saw what he’d meant. She swallowed, head shaking, as he stood, putting himself between her and the door, arms folded.

She pushed to her feet shakily, moving to stand just behind Caleb, as Molly unlocked the door, backed by Yasha and Jester, Fjord and Nott a few feet back from them. Caduceus stood behind Beau, and patted her shoulder. “We’ve got you.” He promised, before taking a step back, his tall form creating a wall of security behind her. She reached a hand out and set it on Caleb’s shoulder, like he often did to her when the stress and panic got to be too much.

“Beauregard-” Her father's voice cut off as Molly swung the door open, his other fist curled at his side.

“You have no right to be here, and should get off oue property before we call the police.” Molly said, glaring.

Beau’s father returned the stare, sneering, in fact. “I don’t care much for what a fag college boy has to say. Where is _Beauregard?”_

Yasha seemed to grow a foot, rage bubbling up. “Don’t say her name.” She cautioned, voice a deadly sort of calm. “Don’t so much as think of trying to push past us or touch her, or you’ll be leaving with bruises much worse than hers.

Beau almost wished she’d been closer, been able to see her father recoil with fear more clearly. He looked at the assembled group, then past them. His eyes locked on her, and he raised a finger, a tiny gesture that felt like a threat. “You, you are a rotten beast. You run off with no warning, then don’t come home for dinner. This is a sacred holiday, Beauregard.”

Yasha stepped a little bit towards him, and Jester, arms folded, did the same. “We told you not to say her name.” Jester reminded.

He looked from Yasha to Jester, then back to Beauregard. “Come with me this instant. We are going home, and I will think, _think_ of allowing you to return to your studies on Monday.”

“She isn’t going anywhere with you.” Molly said, sounding incredulous. “You think after what you did to her we’re going to let you come anywhere near her? No. In fact, I think it might be a good idea for you to turn tail and run.”

His eyes snapped to Molly, anger bubbling up. “You dare to speak to me like that-”

“Yes, I think you’ll find he does.” Fjord spoke up. He was leaning on a wall like a hero in a western. “See, we don’t tend to stand on manners when abusers are involved.”

Nott, Beau realized, was flipping a kitchen knife in the air. She hadn’t noticed her pocket it, but the threat in the action was clear.

Beau’s father swallowed. “Beauregard, I’m giving you one last chance to come home, then I’m cutting you off. No tuition, no allowance, no trust fund, no nothing.”

Beau scowled at him. “Those-” Her voice broke. “The allowance I’ve refused since I was ten, you mean? The trust fund you already changed the name on so I only am allowed it if I take on the family business?” She felt like a coward, shouting retorts from down the hall, but it was better than nothing, she figured, or at least it was a first step to feeling brave again.

“I think you’ll find she’ll be fine when it comes to tuition.” Jester replied. “She’ll be just fine without you and your bullshit.”

Beau swallowed, feeling like she was about to fall apart.

“In case you aren’t getting the point,” Caduceus called from behind her. “You aren’t welcome here.”

“It is time for you to go. Now.” Caleb added. She saw his head tilt forward, and saw fear settle into her father eyes. She didn’t know what he was seeing, but she knew she never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look. “And if you ever dare to come back here, or reach out to her in any way without her reaching you first, you’ll find that all your anger and brutality, it is nothing compared to what we will do for our friend.”

Beau watched her father tremble. She saw how small he looked. Molly was a good inch taller than him, Yasha a few more than that. He looked so weak. His eyes, the steely grey that had scared her so much for so much of her life, flicked to her. He swallowed, seeing the hardness in her face, seeing how every line of her body, even in her terror, was giving him no room for leeway. Then he turned tail and ran.

Molly waited until he saw the taillights turn the corner down the street to close the door. Beau waited until he’d locked the deadbolt, and slid the chain into place to completely fall apart.

Beau cried, feeling like that’s all she could manage anymore. But even as she did she was surrounded by her friends, her family, and she realized, all at once, that it would be okay.


End file.
